


Crying Skies

by siriuslyuptonogood



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-31 09:15:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1029937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriuslyuptonogood/pseuds/siriuslyuptonogood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is struggling to deal with the darkness in his heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crying Skies

Deacon had warned them that what they had to do to find their parents would put a darkness around their hearts, but he couldn’t adequately prepare them for how it felt. Scott and Allison had each other when the darkness reared its ugly head, but Stiles was alone. Sometimes he’d show up at Lydia’s house late at night, and she’d let him in; she’d let him sleep next to her; she wouldn’t ask questions. He’d be gone by the morning, and she never brought it up. He was grateful for that. Sometimes, he could only curl up on his bed as tears dripped down his nose. 

His father would broach the subject every now and again. He was worried about his son. He wanted to know what was wrong, but he never got truthful answers, and he knew him well enough to not push further. Sheriff Stilinski worried that Stiles would shut down completely. Scott was worried too, as he’d discovered during a conversation at the grocery store one night. It was just that nobody knew what to do. 

This went on for months. Stiles smiled at school. He studied hard, but he dropped out of lacrosse, and he stopped having a social life. He even stopped showing up at crime scenes, and where Sheriff Stilinski should have been happy about that, it just made him all the more worried. Stiles finished his junior year nearly at the top of his class, just behind Lydia. He was a model student, but he just seemed so hollow. He was hardly Stiles anymore. 

With June came rain. It was usual and it went on for weeks. Basements flooded, rivers and lakes over-flowed. Everyone freaked out and stayed inside. Everyone except Stiles. He spent every day outside. He walked in the woods. He hung around the Hale house. He would go for bike rides, and for some reason he felt better. He found himself smiling without force. He was starting to feel like Stiles again. Maybe it was that the sky was doing the crying for him and he didn’t have to. But on the third day of the second week, he broke down sitting on the front porch of the Hale house and that theory went out the window. 

"Why are you crying?" a voice asked behind him. Stiles jerked his head up to look, his eyes settling, with surprise, or Derek Hale. 

"I don’t know," he replied, "I just hurt on the inside." The man didn’t answer, just sat down next to him. 

"Why did you come back?" the boy asked. 

"I don’t really know," the wolf replied, "But, I’ve felt this pulling since I left, and it just kept getting worse. So I came back, hoping it would go away. I’ve been here three weeks, almost." 

"Did it go away?" Stiles looked up at the man’s face, his eyes watching for something, but he wasn’t sure what. 

"Not completely, but I don’t really notice it. In fact, right now, I can’t feel it at all." The corners of his mouth turned upward. 

"I miss you," Stiles whispered. 

Derek smirked, “But I’m right here.” 

"And I’m mad at you," the teen continued, "I’m so fucking angry." 

"I’m sorry." 

"You left." 

"And I’m back." 

"But you left." 

"I know, and now I’ve come back," Derek’s voice was so soft that he could barely hear it over the rain. 

"The darkness is trying to take my heart. I’m afraid it’s going to swallow it whole," Stiles whimpered. He fell backward onto the porch, looking up at the smoke darkened wood that hung overhead. He didn’t look at Derek when he knelt down next to him, or when he pushed his shirt up. He shuddered at the warmth of the wolf’s palm against his cold skin as her placed his hand over where his heart lived. 

"This is my heart," he growled, and somehow, Stiles knew he wasn’t talking to him, "This is my heart, and you can’t have it." He placed a kiss against the skin, and pulled the shirt back down. He pulled the boy up into his arms, holding on tight. Stiles buried his face in Derek’s neck, his own arms wrapping around the thick torso.

"I’m so sorry, Stiles. I’ll never leave again."

“I’m sorry won’t make it all better, not just like that. You can’t come back and have everything be okay with a snap of your fingers.”

“I know, but I’m going to make it better. No matter how long or what it takes.”

 


End file.
